you'll join them." Goring positioned himself directly before the four naked men. "I ask each of you again. Anything to say?"
Only the wind replied.
Goring inched close to one of the shivering Germans. The one Borya had bound to the stake.
"Mathias, surely you don't want to die this way? You're a soldier, a loyal servant of the Führer."
"The-Führer-has nothing to do-with this," the German stammered, his body shivering in violet quakes.
"But everything we do is for his greater glory."
"Which is why I-choose to die."
Goring shrugged. A casual gesture, as someone would do if deciding whether to have another pastry. He motioned to Humer. The sergeant signaled two guards, who toted a large barrel toward the bound men. Another guard approached with four ladles and tossed them into the snow. Humer glared at the Russians. "Fill them with water, and go stand by one of those men."
He told the other three what to do and four ladles were picked up, then submerged. "Spill nothing," Humer warned.
Borya was careful, but the wind buffeted a few drops out. No one noticed. He returned to the German he'd bound to the stake. The one called Mathias. Goring stood in the center, pulling off black leather gloves.
"See, Mathias," Goring said, "I'm removing my gloves so I can feel the cold, as your skin does."
Borya stood close enough to see the heavy silver ring wrapping the third finger of the man's right hand, a clutched mailed fist embossed on it. Goring stuffed his right hand into a trouser pocket and removed a stone. It was golden, like honey. Borya recognized it. Amber. Goring fingered the clump and said, "Water will be showered over you every five minutes until somebody tells me what I want to know, or you die. Either is acceptable to me. But, remember, whoever talks lives. Then one of these miserable Russians will take your place. You can then have your coat back and pour water on him until he dies. Imagine what fun that would be. All you have to do is tell me what I want to know. Now, anything to say?"
Silence.
Goring nodded to Humer.
"Gieße es, "Humer said.Pour it.
Borya did, and the other three followed his lead. Water soaked into Mathias's blond mane, then trickled down his face and chest. Shivers accompanied the stream. The German uttered not a sound, other than the chatter of his teeth.
"Anything to say?" Goring asked again.
Nothing.
Five minutes later the process was repeated. Twenty minutes later, after four more dousings, hypothermia started setting in. Goring stood impassive and methodically massaged the amber. Just before another five minutes expired he approached Mathias.
"This is ridiculous. Tell me wheredas Bernstein-zimmeris hidden and stop your suffering. This is not worth dying for."
The shivering German only stared back, his defiance admirable. Borya almost hated being Goring's accomplice in killing him.
"Sie sind ein lügnerisch diebisch-schwein, "Mathias managed in one breath.You are a lying, thieving pig.Then the German spat.
Goring reeled back, spittle splotching the front of his greatcoat. He released the buttons and shook the stain away, then culled back the flaps, revealing a pearl gray uniform heavy with decorations. "I am yourReichsmarschall. Second only to the Führer. No one wears this uniform but me. How dare you think you can soil it so easily. You will tell me
what I want to know, Mathias, or you will freeze to death. Slowly. Very slowly. It will not be pleasant."
The German spat again. This time on the uniform. Goring stayed surprisingly calm. "Admirable, Mathias. Your loyalty is noted. But how much longer can you hold out? Look at you. Wouldn't you like to be warm? Pressing your body close to a big fire, your skin wrapped in a cozy wool blanket." Goring suddenly reached over and yanked Borya close to the bound German. Water splattered from the ladle onto the snow. "This coat would feel wonderful, would it not, Mathias? Are you going to allow this miserable cossack to be warm while you freeze?"
The German said nothing. Only shivered.
Goring shoved Borya away. "How about a little taste of warmth, Mathias?" TheReichsmarschallunzipped his trousers. Hot urine arched out, steaming on impact, leaving yellow streaks on bare skin that raced down to the snow. Goring shook his organ dry, then zipped his trousers. "Feel better, Mathias?"
"Verrottet in der schweinsholle. "
Borya agreed.Rot in hell pig.
Goring rushed forward and backhanded the soldier hard across the face, his silver ring ripping open the cheek. Blood oozed out.
"Pour!" Goring screamed.
Borya returned to the barrel and refilled his ladle.
The German named Mathias started